#Deja vu all over again code#
#Deja vu all over again Pc#

That's what you do if you're an inquisitive kid growing up in the 1990s. Maybe he'd spend hours surfing the Web, skimming Usenet groups, or loitering in America Online chat rooms. And nowadays, he'd probably be puttering around with motherboards and high-speed modems instead of all those goofy radio parts.

#Deja vu all over again Pc#

But in 1982, he would have been staying up late to construct a Frankenclone PC up in his bedroom. If Maynard Mack had been born 60 years later - in 1970 instead of 1910 - he still might have kept busy manufacturing his own entertainment. 'Back then, you had to make your own entertainment,' Maynard muses. And when he really struck gold, he'd manage to catch one of the nighttime music or news programs emanating from KDKA in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, one of the nation's first radio-broadcast stations.

#Deja vu all over again code#

Sometimes he'd, struggle to decipher a few stray dots and dashes of Morse code conversation hammered out by other amateur radio enthusiasts on their jury-rigged transmitters. Maynard remembers that sometimes he'd hear nothing but static for hours on end. In other words, you built a crude, homemade radio receiver, strapped on a clunky set of headphones, and tried to listen to the signals being exchanged through the ether. You went cruising along the frontier of high-tech electronic communications. That's what you did if you were an inquisitive kid growing up in the early 1920s, says Maynard, now a retired Yale University literature professor. So he gathered together a mad scientist's assortment of hardware - a few scraps of plywood, a couple yards of wire, two or three control knobs, a cylindrical oatmeal carton, and a surplus vacuum tube he got from the chemistry department of the local college - and went to work building himself a radio receiver based on a set of plans he'd seen in a magazine. Maynard didn't want to miss out on the fun. Meanwhile, back in Ohio, young Maynard Mack kept track of these advances by poring over the pages of the nearest big-city newspaper, Cleveland's The Plain Dealer.

Radio stations were popping up like dandelions across the land. The term 'broadcasting' - previously used by farmers to describe the 'act or process of scattering seeds' - was rapidly becoming a household word, complete with all its contemporary mass media connotations. Politicians hailed radio as the latest product of American entrepreneurial genius. Journalists wrote ecstatic articles describing the newest developments in wireless technology. In 1922, the 'radio craze' was taking the country by storm. And the 'great system'? Not the Internet. Herbert Hoover, speaking in 1924 as the Secretary of Commerce. Mitch Kapor? Newt Gingrich? Al Gore? Alvin Toffler?